he's good and he's bad and he's all that i've got
by asherandjeanclaude
Summary: Chapter two: One-shot of Dean's inner musings during the Elimination Chamber match versus the Wyatt family. Seth and Roman pull Dean away from the edge of his own mind. Contains some dark thoughts, could maybe be slightly triggering. Light swearing and mentions of blood. Slash, M/M. Rated T for swearing. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first wrestling fanfiction and my first fanfiction since

I learned how to actually write. I hope you like it.

Inspiration from: _Devil's Backbone_- Civil Wars

_No Angels_- Bastille

* * *

The three brothers could hear the "champion" CM Punk cutting a long-winded promo about how he would've taken everyone out had he been medically cleared. _Yeah, right._

"Weak," Roman snorts, incredibly amused at the excuses tumbling out of Punk's mouth.

Seth heaves out a laugh. It stops abruptly once he looks over to see Dean slapping himself repeatedly, while tapping the fingers of his other hand on his collarbone. Telltale signs of his anxiety issues. No matter how anxious or furious Dean got, he always hurt himself. Never his brothers. Never.

Seth makes his way over knowing that of the two of them, he was less likely to get his face bitten off by grabbing a volatile Ambrose. They just had this, this bond. He didn't like to question it.

"Hey, hey, hey. I've got you," Seth reminds him gently. He brings up one gloved hand to calm the tapping, wrapping the other around to the back of Dean's head to bring their foreheads together. "We've got this," he says as Roman gives an affirmative nod. Dean nods back, breathing in deeply and pulling back from Seth just enough to see Roman behind him comfortably.

He was calm enough now that Roman felt comfortable stepping forward and placing a stabilizing hand on his shoulder blade. If he felt Dean needed it, Seth had no problem dishing out comfort, nonexistent consequences be damned because it's Seth. Roman, however, often chose to air on the side of caution.

They snap back into reality as Justin Roberts announces their match. _The first ever six-man tag team TLC match_. The weight of what they were about to do started to set in. Roman even flinched slightly, very slightly of course, at the pyro of the Devils Favorite Demon. They all did really, though Dean would rather die than admit it.

"...What a fucking stupid mask," Dean mutters stepping out of the comforting warmth of his brothers. He rolls his eyes and begins stretching his arms in an attempt to release some tension.

"Just wait 'til the goat comes skipping by."

"Pretty bitchin' theme though," Dean mutters almost regretfully.

"Doesn't hold a candle to ours," Seth adds on, almost in awe. The three of them had always dreamed of being in this spot, of course. The WWE is the big dream for every wrestler and whoever denies it is just a big fat fucking liar. Dean and Seth had pretty notorious indie careers, while Roman had dominated in developmental. But no matter how good you are, there's no telling how far you'll go. The WWE was a cutthroat business. They were lucky to be there and even luckier to be there together.

_Sierra. Hotel. India. Echo. Lima. Delta. Shield_.

"Let's do this," Dean states, immediately snapping into his leadership role. Seth and Roman share a small smile behind his back as the Lunatic leads the way into the crowd. _Here we go_.

* * *

Seth scrambles up the ladder, his heart pounding away. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_.

Seth feels Ryback grab his belt before his last conscious thought, "I done fucked up."

Dean registers the bell ringing. Finally. Their theme reassures him that they've won. Of course they have, because they're the shit. They're the big dogs, the hounds, _the Shield_. But...where's Seth? Dean grabs onto Roman and gives him a high five before reality slaps him in the face. Seth was laid out under a table. _Shit_.

He and Roman scramble over and shake him softly. He stirs and blinks wearily up at Dean, eyes completely glazed over. Dean and Roman have to carry him out of the rubble due to his legs evidently taking a vacation day.

"'m, 'm ok," Seth insists though its obvious he's anything but. A look at the replay on the tron confirms that Seth's head had bounced nastily off one of the four tables he had been launched into from twenty feet above.

"Shh," Roman soothes as Dean flies off the handle, spitting and cursing at Ryback. Dean flipping his shit isn't exactly what he needs, but Seth can't help but find it just a tad endearing. His head feels like there are dwarves mining his brain with axes, his legs might as well not be there, and his vision is black around the edges. None of that matters, though, because Dean is in full-blown lunatic mode because _he_ is hurt. Maybe there is such a thing as silver linings.

Dean turns back around to find Seth propped up against Roman's legs on the ground. If the sight didn't make him move his ass to help, Roman's meaningful stare certainly did. They didn't need words to agree. Their brother's down, so it's their job to pick him back up. He slings Seth's arm onto his shoulder and helps Roman heave him to his feet. Together they stagger backstage. Normally, Dean would use up all his creative energy to fling witty insults at the superstars who gather there, but not today. Seth is a higher priority. The highest if he's totally honest with himself…

They make it to the locker room, miraculously empty, and the boys kneel and place the two-toned man gently onto a bench. His eyes are still glazed over and his legs never really regained any significant strength. Roman lifts a finger in front of Seth's face and instructs him to follow it. Seth tries to follow the geometric pattern Roman traces in the air, but it causes too sharp a pain behind his eyes and in his head.

"Fuck," Dean curses softly as Seth squeezes his eyes shut and turns away groaning.

"I'll go get a trainer," Roman declares. "They're here for a reason, right?"

"Ro-,"

"Shut up," Dean interjects. "Go, big man." The powerhouse nods and exits the room with purpose. Dean stands and runs his fingers through his hair trying to calm down. He spends some time pacing and convincing himself that murdering Ryback would get them nowhere. _Then again…_

He's pulled from his devious musings as the Architect lets out a rather pathetic whimper. Dean glances over at his ninja. He's sitting up, albeit leaning a bit precariously. His breathing is ragged and his eyes are still screwed shut tightly. Another whimper escapes as Seth shifts to hunch over in pain, elbows on his knees and hands in his hair.

Dean snaps into action. He crosses the room in two big steps and kneels in front of Seth. He peels his hands gently out of his hair only to replace them with his own. He probes gently until he finds the large knot under bleached hair. Seth hisses and starts to pull away.

"Alright, alright," Dean whispers gently smoothing Seth's hair from his face. Seth leans into the touch.

"Ow," he cries softly.

"I know, I'm sorry," Dean apologizes. He should've been there. He should've let Roman go back to destroy the stupid goat alone and stayed to help Seth. If he hadn't left, Seth wouldn't have been hurt. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Shut up," Seth sighs and leans forward to rest his forehead on Dean's. "We fuckin' won. Was worth it." His words slur slightly, but Dean does have to admit to himself that winning did feel pretty good.

Dean feels Seth's breath ghost over his lips. It makes him realize just how intimate a position they're in. Dean is kneeling between Seth's legs, hands in his hair, and faces up close and personal. His gaze sweeps over the now gently closed eyelids, his slightly too big nose, and his pretty, pretty lips. His fingers scratch Seth's scalp absentmindedly causing Seth to exhale and lean more heavily into Dean's embrace. The sound goes right through Dean and his heartbeat quickens as his breath leaves his mouth in a soft gasp.

Seth opens his eyes. Blue meets chocolate brown and Dean can no longer resist cupping Seth's face and leaning in. The kiss is sweet and way too short, but the message is clear. _I'm sorry you're hurt. I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere. I love you._

Seth sighs happily, eyes closed once more. Dean hears Roman's footsteps and sits back on his heels and retract his hands. Seth whines at the loss of contact and forces his tired eyes open, mouth ready to voice his complaint.

"Easy," Dean soothes, hand rubbing Seth's knee before he stands.

The door opens and Roman comes in with a trainer in tow. The trainer quickly makes his way over to Seth. He asks permission to probe his head and proceeds to question Seth extensively.

"Think he's concussed?"

"Maybe," Roman answers thoughtfully, crossing his arms and leaning against the door to ensure privacy. Dean joins him after a beat. "Better safe than sorry, though."

Dean studies Seth, still weak and pitiful and completely adorable. He puts up mental barriers against any thoughts of what could've happened to Seth if he was seriously hurt and they hadn't sought medical attention. He's going to be okay. He has to be.

The doctor confirms that Seth is going to be fine. No concussion, but pretty damn close. The good news doesn't stop Dean from insisting that Seth sleep with him that night, just in case. He doesn't really have an excuse for demanding it every other night until he no longer has to ask.


	2. Chapter 2

_as long as there is a light, my shadow's over you,_ slash, ambrolleigns

* * *

It was without a doubt the biggest match of their collective careers. It may not have looked it on the match card, a six-man tag match doesn't exactly scream epic, but the crowd thought different.

The cheering during each entrance had been thunderous. The people were completely sucked in to the magic that was ready to unfold. Nothing but screams could be heard.

_This is awesome! This is awesome! This is awesome!_

All three members of the Shield could taste the energy in the arena. The Wyatts were visibly affected as well. Nothing but eye contact had yet to happen, but the audience was eating it up.

_Let's go Wyatts! Let's go Shield! Let's go Wyatts! Let's go Shield!_

The countering chants blew the roof off the place as Ambrose and Bray exchanged a war of words. Rollins and Reigns try their best to corral the Lunatic Fringe into their corner to start the match and give the people the _fight_ they so desperately wanted.

Dean went calmly, and they should've known better. Bray had just spent a good deal of time singling out Ambrose for a verbal lashing.

"Look at how they treat you!" He had shouted, referring to Rollins telling Dean to keep his focus and Roman pushing Dean back into formation. "Child! You're a child!" Bray screamed at Dean like the worst of insults.

Roman and Seth should've known that Dean would not go calmly. If there was one thing Ambrose wouldn't stand for, it was being seen as the weak link; it was his biggest insecurity. He knew he was full of faults, no matter how hard his teammates tried to convince him otherwise. Therefore, when Dean backed calmly towards the corner, they should've anticipated the fake-out.

Dean turns at the last second, charges Bray, and the fight is _on_.

Harper grabs at Dean, leveling him enough to give Bray the advantage, but Dean's brothers were right behind him. Before long at all, the Hounds took control of the ring.

Dean grabs Roman's outstretched arm, accepting the offer of support, the attempt to ground him. He let's Seth back him into the corner, fighting back the instinct to claw his way out of it. His brother would never hurt him. Seth places his hands on Dean's skull, trying to make eye contact. Dean's gaze stays on Bray across the ring, his mind miles away, but he calms at Seth's affectionate ruffling of his hair and Roman's hand on his shoulder. Dean swipes a hand down his damp face and lets Rollins start the match.

* * *

Dean trusts his brothers more than anything, but as time goes on, the _Roman Reigns_ chants get to him. He becomes increasingly agitated at the pop Roman gets after Seth tags him in.

He watches Roman decimate Bray. He notes Seth's exaggerated reactions of support. It stays with him even after he's tagged in. He can feel himself losing control as the match continues. Wrestling is usually the outlet he needs to rid himself of his anxiety, but it's doing the opposite today.

His demons are coming out to play, trying to swallow him whole. He's distracted and so he eats a dropkick from Harper.

Bray is tagged in. He gives Dean no breathing room, while using his spare breath to remind the unstable one of his worthlessness. His brothers can't possibly need him, can't possibly have a use for him. The words fuel his inner demons. He can't will his mind to fight back and thereby fails to will his body to fight back.

He hears Seth scream support. _Come on, Dean!_ It lifts some of the black smoke fogging his mind. He plants Harper and practically runs towards Seth.

Seth pulls off an amazing feat, landing on his feet in a perfect counter to the German suplex Harper attempts from the top rope. It earns him a "This is awesome!" chant before he's planted hard on his back, air knocked out of his lungs.

Bray is tagged in and Ambrose can't help but indulge him.

"Why don't you bring that crap over here, huh?" He screams down at him where he's decimating Seth outside the ring.

_Let's go Wyatts! Let's go Shield! Let's go Wyatts! Let's go Shield!_

The universe erupts into those opposing chants. The fight continues, Seth unable to find an opening for a tag.

"Come on, Seth!" Dean screams, trying to rouse Seth from his breathless stupor. He gnaws at his nails as Seth fails to avoid being nearly decapitated. His support doesn't motivate Seth like Seth's had motivated him and Dean notes that, too. His demons feed on that knowledge, but Dean still charges to save his brother and the match. He eats a boot for his effort. The darkness crowds him even more after Roman doesn't engage whoever nailed him in the face, instead choosing to stay on the apron hoping for a tag.

He gets the tag and the cheers that ensue. Dean shakes off the darkness enough to save Roman, thez-pressing Bray and later drop kicking him. Harper takes him out, but Seth quickly throws caution to the wind to attack Harper for trying to paralyze Dean.

Dean can barely feel his legs, but he wills his body to stand regardless. He's able to stop the beating Seth was about to take, but can't help diving back towards Bray. The comments from earlier were still boiling under his skin.

Their fight spills into the crowd, through a door, and into the backstage area.

"You're nothing to them, you fool!" Bray laughs in his face, after toe-dropping Dean face first into a chair. Dean feels his nose give and blood starts to flow out. Bray folds up the chair that just broke his nose and raises it. Dean is kneeling in front to Wyatt, trying to blink away the haze caused by the impact of his skull to the steel. "They call you brother, but here you stand all alone. They don't care for you. They probably won't even miss you," he finishes before swinging the steel.

It's the last image Dean sees before everything goes black.

* * *

He comes to with a groan. He blinks open his eyes trying to focus on his surroundings. The light is dim here, the arena hauntingly quiet. He realizes he has missed the end of the match, but that knowledge falls to second place as he discovers his broken nose while trying to reboot his system by slapping himself in the face.

Ambrose groans and stumbles to his feet. He catches his reflection in a nearby display showcasing the home team of this arena's efforts in years past. He uses the trophy case to right his nose back into position, letting out a hoarse shout of pain.

He figures he should try and make it back to the Shield's locker room. He finds it eventually after stumbling around the arena. He and Bray had entered through a random door and into a section that Dean had never been to before. He throws open the door recklessly, wincing at the loud clattering it makes when it collides with the wall.

"Shit!" he spits out. He stuff is gone and so are his brothers. His mind roars to life, those dark thoughts rearing their ugly heads. _Why would they wait for you? They don't need you._ He slaps his head repeatedly trying to quiet the voices. He remembers that they were staying at a hotel not too far from here. "Sunrise some-shit-or-another", Dean vaguely recalls the name of the hotel. He types "sunrise hotel" and the name of the city they are in shakily into his phone's web browser. He clicks the option _Directions from here_, silently thanking Seth for insisting he get a smartphone. _Just in case_, he recalls Seth saying as he slid the new iPhone delicately into Dean's back pocket before planting a sweet kiss on his lips to swallow the inevitable objection to technology. The directions tell him it's a five-minute walk.

He reaches the hotel in twenty, having walked the wrong way like eight times because fuck technology. He walks into the hotel and just glares at the stares he receives. He can't remember their room number, but luckily he runs into some of the Divas. He approaches the Bella twins trying to seem as harmless as he is able. Nikki pulls Brie behind her slightly, glaring cautiously at the Lunatic Fringe with blood smeared all over his face, hair disheveled, and still in his ring gear.

"Hey," Dean starts, throwing his hands up to imply that he comes in peace. "I don't want any trouble, I'd never harm a woman," Nikki snorts in disbelief and Dean cuts himself off. He levels her with a glare. He's not a monster damn it.

She just sighs and rolls her eyes, "So what do you want?"

"Have you seen my-" Dean doesn't say brothers. No. His mind is too muddled with self-doubt and hatred for him to be able to do so. "My teammates?" he finishes lamely.

Brie catches the fumble of his words. He's off- well, more off than usual. She stops her sister from berating Dean and just says quietly that they saw Roman and Seth going into room 515. She shivers slightly when Dean's erratic gaze shifts to her, but Nikki shoves her completely behind her back.

"You heard her! 515. Bye." Nikki spits out before pulling her sister away from Dean.

Ambrose just shakes his head and makes his way to the stairs figuring he's less likely to encounter anyone on the stairs. He makes it to the room, covered in even more sweat and his head pounding. He knocks in with discernable rhythm and waits, swaying on the spot. He must've lost more blood than he thought or taken a harder hit to the- wait.

He remembers having seen Bray swinging a chair towards him. He lifts a hand to the side of his head and hisses as he encounters a tender spot. He pulls his fingers away and there's blood on his hand. The door opens then.

Seth is standing there, mouth open to probably tell off whoever it is before his gaze lands on Dean. His deep brown eyes widen in surprise and his face falls into one of concern. Dean is certainly a sight to behold.

His nose is an angry purple that had spread under his eyes. There is dried blood smeared all over his face and down his neck. His compression shirt seems to be crusted with blood. The more concerning things were the glassy look in his eyes and the fresh blood on his fingers.

"Dean..." Seth breathes out quietly. He hears Roman asking about who is at the door, but Seth is too busy yanking Dean into an embrace. He holds him close, one arm tightly around his back and the other over his broad shoulders. His left hand cradles Dean's head gently in the crook of his neck. He feels Dean tense before he lets out a shaky breath, his own arms coming up around Seth's back. The Architect can feel when Dean's hands curl into fists, clenching the shirt on his back tightly as if he's afraid of being released. Seth just walks backwards very slowly, easing Dean into the room without breaking the embrace. Dean is shaky on his legs, but manages.

Roman comes into Dean's line of sight, relief flooding his face before concern widens his eyes. "Are you bleeding?" he inquires firmly, not even sorry Seth has to break the embrace Dean is clinging to. "You are!" Roman realizes when he notes that Seth's shoulder has fresh blood smeared on it from Dean's temple. Seth glances down to see the front of his shirt is covered in flecks of dried blood as well. He and Roman share a look before they start towards Dean intending to get him out of his gear and cleaned up.

"'m fine," Dean starts, backing into the closed door and throwing his hands up. He feels cornered. Seth and Roman stop in their tracks. "Don't. Don't touch me…get away," Dean sounds a thousand miles away, his voice low and hoarse. He's shaking his head and his hands are swiping at something only he sees.

"Dean, it's okay," Roman aims for a soothing voice. "Everything's okay."

"No, no, no" Dean shakes his head more frantically now. _Nothing's okay. You're nothing. Nothing at all_, his mind screams at him. _They don't care, they don't need you, they _left_ you,_ his demons chant over and over. The pounding in his head increases, his breaths coming faster and faster. The walls are closing in. His vision narrows and he sees spots as the lack of oxygen is taking its toll. He can hear Bray's condescending voice alongside the one that belongs to his own mind. Together they berate and belittle him.

_Dean, come back. Come on, baby_. A new voice breaks through, so close yet so far away. It sounds almost painfully familiar. It sounds desperate, but full of love and affection. _Baby boy, we're right here._ A fourth voice joins the mix. This voice is smooth and strong, the opposite of the rough growls of his demons. It's firm and reassuring. Together, the new voices sound so warm and welcoming. They sound like _home_. Dean's never had a home, but his heart is screaming at him that these voices are his home; with them is where he belongs. So he claws and bites and screams and scratches his way through the dark. He's fought all his life; he's gotten good over the years. The blood loss makes him weak, though. _Dean, please, we need you!_ The voices come back, fueling his will to fight.

He finally breaks through with a huge gulp of air. His chest heaves deeply as he regains control of his lungs and himself. Seth has his hands in Dean's hair, their foreheads pressed securely together as he kneels between Dean's legs. He's mumbling under his breath, "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," he chants, grounding Dean as much as Roman's arms are. The Powerhouse is holding Dean on his lap with his arms wrapped tightly around him, partly to help control his breathing and partly to stop him from hurting himself. Roman's forehead is resting heavily on the back of Dean's neck.

When Dean has regained a sufficient amount of oxygen, Seth and Roman help him stand. They walk him into the large bathroom of their hotel room before stripping him out of his blood crusted ring gear. Roman disposes of it and Seth's ruined shirt after he strips if off to hop in the shower with Dean. Seth helps keep Dean upright as he drags the soap lethargically over his body. Rollins washes his hair for him, being mindful of the tender left temple. Roman is waiting with two fluffy towels when they finish. He hands Seth one before wrapping Dean gently in the other. His big hand ruffles Dean's damp hair affectionately and he can't resist planting a kiss on his head. He grins in response to the lazy smile that breaks through on Dean's face.

Seth and Dean dress warmly for bed, the hotel room feeling rather frigid after a steaming shower. All three climb onto the California king sized bed, Dean securely in the middle. Together, the three of them fend off Dean's demons and all is calm.


End file.
